Always
by xXSilentMelodiesXx
Summary: The Ability to live...When all he wanted was to die.


**Author's Note: Lol. This was sooo random... I was just sitting there, and all of a sudden, I start thinking about the color red, and..Yeah. Oo I've never written a south park story in my life, nor have I ever thought of it. Buutt.. This just seemed like the right fandom to do it for so, lets hope it works!**

**Disclaimer: .. Must I? Noo. I don't own it. ~**

Kenny saw red.

Sure, it's not something that would ever be new to him.. He died all the time. Hell, funerals had long stopped, and so did the mourning and the caring and the sadness. If someone saw him get hit by a car, they'd check and go, 'Oh, it's just Kenny', and continue on their way. He didn't blame them though. He always came back, and no one even paid mind to what had happened. Never paid mind to _him_.

Dying wasn't easy. Hell, it was even considered an _art _with the ways that he died. Death sure did have a creative side; a sadistic, cruel-minded abstract definition of art. Hurt like a bitch though.

But no one cares about that. Not the Devil, not God…Not even his friends. Quite honestly, he wasn't even sure if the _understood _how everything works. That he didn't just…Die, and come back. There was a process. He felt everything. _Everything. _It wasn't ever quick, either. No, that would be too easy… _Far _too uncreative for Death's taste.

He never showed it, but it scared him. Death. Well…Not so much Death itself but…the process he was forced to take. He feared the next way he would die – And he hated it. Knowing that he would have to feel _every _part of his body being torn apart, stabbed, burned, crushed, twisted, scraped, bruised – It terrified him. He hated knowing that…even after it all, he wasn't even gifted with the welcoming release of Death.

He had to feel his soul being ripped out of him, too. He thinks that's the worst part of it, because it never gets easier. Nor does having it shoved back into his body.

Oddly enough, out of all the ways he's met his 'end', never has he tried to take his own life. Sure, he's thought about it, and it would probably be a much nicer way to go than previous experiences, but it never crossed his mind because he always thought it would be pointless. And then people would think he was some pathetic emo kid.

That's if they even cared, though. Truthfully, he didn't think they gave a shit – like everyone else – and that to them, he was just a background object that was just _there. _Cartmen—Well, everyone knew he didn't care. That fat fuck didn't give a rats ass about anyone, and he never even tried to hide it. He remember once him even saying, _"Why can't that little hood rat just go and stay dead already? Jesus Christ, that poor piece of crap is like a bad STD!" _Typical Cartmen.

Stan…Well, Stan was just.._Stan_. He was always obsessing over Wendy, that hippy whore that always managed to break his heart in some way, before crawling back to him. Kenny never quiet understood why Stan always went back to her – maybe she was great in bed. Fuck if he knew. But either way, he didn't think Stan really cared about him. Captain of the football team, he had more important friends, and he wasn't even sure why he hung around them. He was a hoodrat, Cartmen was a fatass annoying asshole, and Kyle was his Super-Best Friend. Maybe that's why.

Kyle… He wasn't sure. He's always been closer to the red-head for some reason, and he kind of thought of him as a close friend. He wasn't sure of Kyle's take on this, and he knew he would always come up second to Stan but that didn't matter to him. He knew the jew had a good heart, and he liked that about him. He wondered if for that reason only…_He _would at least care.

And now here he was. Trying his _own _hand at death, hoping that maybe God, the Devil – _whoever _– would take pity on his soul and let him stay _dead _and _gone_. Suicide wasn't so bad. Sure, swiping the blade across his arms intentionally was a little daunting and had an uncomfortable sting to it, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. It was far nicer than being.. per say… _microwaved, _or being impaled.

Kenny saw red.

And by _God_, he hoped that would be the last thing he ever saw.

----

_Dear World, _

_Let's hope that Heaven and Hell doesn't fuck me over once again. I know you're getting sick and tired of seeing my sorry-ass face, and shit, so am I. Maybe now you can all stop pretending that you cared – it was evident that you didn't. Never. Cared. At All. _

_So let's hope this is the end, and that the cycle won't repeat. _

_-Kenny_

----

"That idiot…" Kyle murmured under his breath; tear-stricken eyes looming over the people who were gathered around the small tombstone. There were surprisingly a lot – more than he would have expected, and…he was happy. Not that they had a reason to be here, but that they _cared _enough to come.

It had been two weeks before anyone decided that he wasn't coming back. Two weeks before they gathered his limp, cold and blood-stricken body from his room, and made a proper burial.

Kyle just didn't understand.

He…He would come back. He had too. Kenny _always _came back.

…Right?

----

_Kenny __McCormick_

_1994-2010_

"_Gifted With The Ability To Live,  
When Death Was All He Wished For."_

xoxoxoxoxoxox

**AN: Soo... Yeah. xDD This was really random. I don't even remember that I put, I am that tired. Two in the morning, sick..and im writing fan fiction. Isn't it clear where my priorities lie?**

**Anyway. I'm thinking about adding a second chapter in with Kyle's POV. Why? I don't know. It seems like a pretty good idea. But then again, I might not. Meh. **

**Would I say this was K2? I'm.. not sure. It can be seen how you want. If I put a second chapter in, then I guess it will be made clear, if it's bugging you. XD**

**R&R's make me happy!**


End file.
